A reactionary trend is washing across journalism and politics. It holds that politics is first of all about character – a view which betrays both politics and character. And the book which has, for the past week, commanded most of that terrain – Andrew Rawnsley’s End of the Party, published today– is fruit of that trend, even if not guilty of its creation.

Rawnsley’s book is likely to be live up to much that he claims for it. One of the most readable and acute of political commentators, he has insisted that all of his anecdotes are well sourced, and has claimed he has left out many, the veracity of which he was sure, but which lacked cast iron certainty. So what we have is likely to be true: it is likely to be true that Gordon Brown, the British Prime Minister, swore at, threw things at, pushed and intimidated many of the people in his entourage. It is likely that, either on his orders or in his name, his aides – “the forces of Hell” – briefed ferociously against those in his own party and Cabinet who had aroused his anger. It is likely that he did continually and ruthlessly seek to undermine the spirit of Tony Blair when the latter was Prime Minister, in pursuit of his own dominating desire to be Prime Minister.

It’s true: and it’s true like some very high grade gossip is true. The question is, does gossip matter to politics – to politics, that is, as an activity which, in a democratic society, includes both competing for power and, having won, delivering a range of services, reforms and messages to the population.

The argument that it does – an argument which Gordon Brown has himself made – is that character is the salient issue in politics. The character of politicians, and above all of the leader, is the way in which people should – and anyway do – judge politics. This is the more the case (the argument goes on), since political programmes are now closely aligned, both seeking a centrist electorate, both faithful to the social and economic wisdoms of the age. People do not read manifestos, compare pledges, follow policy debates. They look at the people who want to govern them, or legislate for them and decide: s/he’s ok, s/he’s not.

And because this is a widespread belief, gossip – which is the main way in which others’ characters are discussed and assessed – now comes to the centre of media practice. Gossip – the revelation of private behaviour – is the default position of political coverage. It is the way in which we are encouraged to “know” our politics – through the character of our politicians.

But we cannot know politics in that way. We cannot even know our politicians thus. For politicians will – as does everyone in public life- construct a “character” for the world. To be sure, that “character” will not disguise, indeed will necessarily draw on, the traits of his or her nature. But it will be a construct none the less: one which, for the powerful, will be bolstered by public relations advice and devices, which will be worked on, rehearsed and polished. What we do when we ask to know more about our politicians’ characters is to invite deception.

Indeed, what we demand is what we are getting: more and more gossip, whether high grade, like End of the Party, or low grade, like the stuff which appears in magazines as Hello and OK. The first is high grade because it has been obtained by a fine reporter/commentator  working with the tools of the reporter’s trade – inquiry, checking and (as far as possible) open sourcing. The second is low grade because it is the product of negotiations between celebrities’ public relations advisors and the magazines’ editors as to what can be said, what can be shown and what the price is.

But the price is a transformation of the public sphere into one where the private activities, relationships and “character” is regarded as the prime object of journalistic inquiry, and the most important criteria on which a political judgment can and should be made. Carlo Rossella, who ran the news programmes on Silvio Berlusconi’s Canale 5 (one of the three Mediaset channels), wrote recently on the Italian website DagoSpia that gossip “which had, in the Anglo Saxon media, run in parallel with serious news, destined to meet only in infinity, had now merged with the latter… from being the throwaway attraction for the media, gossip has become a precious fuel for their survival and success. Without gossip, the crisis of newspapers and television  of 2008-9 would have been (particularly for the newspapers) much more serious. Gossip has saved the Private Ryan of  information”.

But  why call this reactionary? Because, ironically, a greater concentration on the personal attributes of leaders deprives the population of agency. There is nothing that can be done about character. One cannot change Gordon Brown. One cannot hold his bad temper to account. But one can do so to his policies – which are not at all of a piece with his character, as revealed by Rawnsley. They are contentious, debatable, difficult to make a final judgment on, complex – like most issues in politics. They can be boring – like most issues in politics. The advantage is – we can be engaged. Celebrity in politicians dis-engages us.

What to do? Hard to say. Gossip is so absorbing.